


Bed Head

by utsu



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hokage Uzumaki Naruto, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2591840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/utsu/pseuds/utsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naruto and Sasuke are in charge of doing their daughters’ hairstyles for the day.<br/>Everything is a struggle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed Head

Every Sunday morning it was Naruto’s turn to do Himawari’s hair for the day.

Sundays weren’t the _only_ days that he did her hair, but they were the one day every week that he could never miss for any reason besides the eradication of the village. Hinata and he liked to trade off getting her ready for the day, especially now that Boruto was old enough that he liked to get ready for each day by himself—some new budding independence that he bragged about _constantly_.

Of course, Himawari totally looked up to him for it and boasted that one day she, too, would get ready completely on her own! Having heard this from the kitchenette, Hinata had asked Himawari the next morning if she’d like to try to get ready on her own that day. To Hinata’s veiled delight, Himawari immediately shook her head and replied; “I think I want a flower pin in my hair today! Is that okay, momma?”

That had only been a week ago and yet Himawari was still very much so interested in having her parents help her get ready for the day. Of course, given that her mother was a renowned shinobi whose combination of medical know-how, matchless tracking skills, untraceable speed, and high intelligence ensured that she was constantly in high demand, much of her time was taken away from her kids. Her father was even busier given that he was the Hokage—and more than that, he was arguably the most notorious shinobi alive now that he’d become the hero of the village hidden in the leaves and had a seemingly endless list of accomplishments throughout the nations trailing behind him.

It wasn’t often that both of her parents were unable to be there for Himawari and her brother, but when circumstances called for their absence, they always made sure to have someone there to take care of them.

When it was her mother that was called to action, her uncle Sasuke or her aunt Sakura would help her get ready in the morning. She enjoyed spending time with them the most because Sakura was strong and bright and she knew _everything_ and always made sure to tell Himawari stories while she was getting her hair brushed. Sasuke, on the other hand, was far quieter but was gentler with the brush and he let her hold his hand when he walked her to the Hokage tower.

Himawari liked when he smiled the best because she had to work for it; it kept her on her toes and was a good way for her to learn what boundaries meant. Sasuke wasn’t like her father in that almost everything she did brought a smile to his face, which always made Himawari feel like a little ball of sunshine looking up at the big sun—Sasuke on the other hand was darker and smoother around the edges but with a rougher personality. Himawari had discovered that holding his hand, however, was the number one way to get him to smile at her.

When her father had to leave the village for a mission, she got to play with her uncle and his dog. Unlike her favorite dog man, uncle Kiba only had one dog but Akamaru was big enough that she could ride on him and when they went back to Kiba’s home he paced right at her side, his long fur brushing against her comfortingly the entire way while uncle Kiba told her all about dogs. He liked to let her sit on his shoulders a lot, so when she wasn’t beside or on top of Akamaru, she was tall enough to see over the heads of _adults_ by sitting on her uncle’s shoulders. Whenever she was with him, sometimes they would drop by the academy before heading home so that Kiba could say hello to his friend the bug man, who was teaching Boruto’s class. Himawari loved dropping by the academy because that meant that she got to see her big brother! He always made sure to give her a hug and tell her to be safe before turning around and proclaiming something as she smiled after him.

After the academy, uncle Kiba would bring her home so that she could play with Akamaru out in the fields beyond, playing tag and wrestling and sometimes picking flowers for her uncle Neji.

When her mother _and_ her father had to leave the village that meant that their teams usually also had to go with them, so there was no seeing Sakura or Sasuke or Kiba or even the dog man. That meant that she got to stay with Iruka-sensei and she learned _so much_. It made sense, though; since he’d told her that he used to be a teacher at the academy.

Himawari had once asked her parents why she barely ever got to see the dog man, telling them that she missed him and his dogs very much. Her father’s expression had puckered into a pout before he’d thrown a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck, a wide smile crinkling his eyes shut.

“Ahh, Hima-chan, that bastard never shows up on time anyways!”

“Naruto-kun,” Hinata’s voice was quiet enough that you probably could’ve heard a pin drop on the tile, yet even still, the reprimand was clear enough for Naruto to flush.

“Whoops! Sorry Hinata-chan! Hima-chan, don’t use bad language like your old man, okay?”

“Roger!” she’d responded, still wondering what his explanation had even meant. She really enjoyed spending time with the dog man; he had _so many dogs_ and his hair was poufy and fun to play with! He also had a really nice-looking face, but every time he showed it to her he always made her promise to keep it a secret. She was good at keeping secrets, unlike Boruto, which was probably why the dog man had never shown his full face to her brother, who constantly tried to find ways to remove the dog man’s mask. Himawari was bubbly and jubilant most of the time, well mannered and playful and an undeniable chatterbox when it came to things she enjoyed—like flowers, her parents, her brother, her uncle in the stone, and birds—but she was also really good at keeping promises.

Her mother had told her that she got that from her father; that his entire life he’d always kept his promises—very strict with himself about keeping his word. _I stand by what I say_ , her mother would whisper, smiling and tucking a strand of Himawari’s hair behind her ear. _He never breaks a promise_.

Himawari believed her, too. Especially when every Sunday morning she woke up to her father’s smiling face as he tickled her awake before lightly poking her button nose.

“Time to wake up, Hima-chan! Today we’re going to train again!” Naruto struck a pose, banging his wrist into her doorframe and hissing at the pain while he clutched it in his other hand. Himawari laughed, hiding her grin behind her tiny hands. Naruto raised a brow at her and pouted.

“So mean, Hima-chan!” He wailed before winking at her and swinging around the corner, presumably to make her breakfast like he always did. He wasn’t a good cook, at all, but there was no messing up a bowl of cereal. Grinning as she hopped out of bed, she hurriedly got into her dressers and picked out the clothes she wanted to wear for the day: a yellow button-up shirt that looked like sunflowers and a pair of dark pink capris. She dashed into the bathroom and found her toothbrush sitting on the edge of the sink with the toothpaste right next to it. Giggling, Himawari brushed her teeth while humming along to her favorite song—one her mother often sings to her—and looked into the mirror at the disastrous bed head that was her hair.

After finishing with her teeth and rubbing the sleep out of her aquamarine eyes, she affectionately traced the whisker-like scars on her cheeks that she shared with her brother and her father. She skipped out of the bathroom, still humming to the beat of her mother’s song. She could hear the vibrations of voices from the living room, and that made her pause. Usually it was just she and her father on Sunday mornings, so who could be visiting this early in the morning? Naruto was expected at the Hokage tower all day every day so whenever it was his turn to help her get ready or he wanted to walk Boruto to the academy, he’d sneak out of the tower before the sun was even fully risen and leave shadow clones around so no one had an easy time finding the real him. Looking out the window and seeing the sun lovingly gleaning over the Hokage monument and making the entire village glow like what Himawari often saw in her dreams, she found herself smiling again.

Footsteps were approaching, quiet and faint, so she dashed back into her room just in time to turn around and see Naruto trying to sneak up on her for another tickle-attack. She smiled at him, twirling in place in her lavender pajamas and her disastrous bed head and Naruto couldn’t help but be reminded of a tiny puppy, exuberant and playful. He rubbed her head, making an even bigger mess of her hair, and turned towards the clothes she’d laid out.

“Ahh, I see. Your favorite outfit again, huh?” He smiled fondly over his shoulder at her, feeling his heart swell with adoration.

“Yup!” she chirped, dancing in place and lifting her hands as he turned and gently grabbed the hem of her pajama top, trying to tug it off. Her head got a little stuck in the neck hole and it was a little bit of a struggle but eventually Naruto got her out of there, casting a forlorn look at the rat’s nest that her hair had become. He had no idea, _no idea_ , how he was going to make that mess look presentable. Even when her hair was freshly showered and brushed, smooth and silky and free of tangles, he struggled to make it look cute with her assortment of clips and ties. And now that it was entirely made up of knots because he’d let her skip her shower the night before and she’d slept on already knotted hair—Hinata was going to _scold him_ so badly—he now had to deal with this disaster on his own.

Well, he thought, suddenly realizing whom exactly he had out there in his living room and the reason that that someone was there, not exactly on his own. Face brightening at the prospect, he finished buttoning up her yellow shirt and held her pants out for her to step into them. The moment she was dressed and had her sandals on she reached up and caught his extended hand, holding tightly as they headed for the living room.

When Himawari walked out into the living room holding hands with her father and found her cousin Sarada and her uncle Sasuke sitting on the couch she got so happy so quickly she almost stopped breathing.

“Sarada-chan! Uncle!” she breathed, releasing Naruto’s hand instantly, which left him with a pout on his face and Sasuke looking far too smug for his liking. She stopped in front of Sarada, who, aside from a similarly catastrophic hair predicament, looked as pristine and orderly as usual with an infinitesimal smile on her face that Naruto was certain Himawari wouldn’t be able to distinguish just yet. It didn’t really matter, though, Himawari was relentlessly friendly and she was especially fond of Sarada—Hinata had told him in private that Himawari might have had a slight crush on the girl. Naruto had felt his heart leap up and into his throat, pride bubbling light and airy in his stomach. He’d _known_ one of his kids would have a special bond with Sasuke’s! Though Hinata had told him to keep it a secret and he’d promised her that he would, Naruto couldn’t wait to see his friend’s face when he finally realized what was going on.

Himawari gave a small, polite bow to Sarada and Naruto watched with a grin as Sarada pushed her red-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose and bobbed her head lightly in return. Her face was as blank as her father’s but her eyes were every bit as expressive and Naruto knew for a fact that she could only maintain that stoicism for so long, not with Sakura’s hot-headed blood running through her veins. For a brief moment, Naruto wondered if he should be worried, casting a very protective and typical helicopter parent look at his only daughter.

“Himawari-chan,” Sarada greeted, her voice soft and deep. Himawari’s smile grew tenfold and she bounced around Sarada to greet her uncle. Naruto crossed his arms over his chest and watched his little bundle of sunshine melt down all of the hard edges Sasuke put up with just a smile. She latched onto his leg, hugging it tightly before bounding back and bowing to him, polite as ever.

“Welcome!” she said, and Naruto laughed outright at the way Sasuke’s eyes softened and his lips turned up at the corners. Sasuke shot him a glare, promising retribution at a later time, and greeted Himawari with a quiet welcome in return. Himawari flushed happily, turning back to look at Naruto.

“Are we gonna play outside?”

“Not today, Hima-chan. Uncle teme and Sarada-chan stopped by to chat and say hi for a bit.” Naruto explained, adjusting his Jonin vest like he had an itch he couldn’t quite reach.

“Oi, watch your language.” Sasuke snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and unconsciously mirroring Naruto’s stance. Naruto immediately smacked his own forehead, groaning.

“Sorry Sarada-chan! My bad, Hima-chan.”

“That’s another marble in the jar!” Himawari scolded him lightly, waving her pointed finger around and heading over into the kitchen. Naruto dragged a hand over his face, flinching when they all heard the sound of a marble clanking down into an already almost full jar. Sasuke looked so amused he was practically _beaming_ , turning to Naruto and hitching an eyebrow up in curiosity.

“You have a _swear jar_?”

Sarada, being the daddy’s girl that she was, drove the point home by snorting behind a dainty hand and looking anywhere but at Naruto.

“Y-yeah, what of it?”

“Idiot.” Sasuke snorted, mirroring his daughter. Himawari came back into the room looking smug. Sasuke turned to her, a small grin on his face.

“What happens when the jar is full?” he asked, genuinely curious. Naruto knew that nothing good could come of it, but he didn’t put a stop to his daughter answering in a cheery voice.

“Daddy has to wash the dog man’s dogs! And I get to help!”

Already knowing what was coming, Naruto glared as Sasuke’s dark laughter rang out throughout the living room, short but lasting. Sarada looked up at him, smiling at the sound of his laughter.

“Himawari-chan, let me know when the jar is full.” Sasuke smirked and Naruto was already shaking his head, moving towards Himawari to swoop down and lift her up, clutching her to his chest protectively.

“Hey! Hey! She wouldn’t do me dirty like that. She’s on my side, believe it!”

Sasuke made a doubtful sound, still smirking.

“Anyways,” Naruto snapped, deliberate, he rubbed a hand over Himawari’s back in a soothing manner before sliding her down until she was standing beside him again. She put her hands behind her back and balanced her weight on the balls of her feet in anticipation, wondering what was going to happen next. All of this was new to her, atypical of her routine Sunday mornings with just Naruto and herself, and it was exciting.

“I think we should get started. Gotta conquer the beast eventually, ne?” Sasuke nodded his head, reaching a hand out and smiling gently when Sarada automatically slipped her hand around his. They headed into the kitchenette and Naruto gestured for Himawari to follow after them, which she did with noticeable curiosity. Once inside the kitchenette, she found two barstools placed next to each other and an assortment of Himawari’s own hairclips, ties, brushes, and combs scattered all along the table. There was a wooden box on the other side of the table that had her uncle’s clan symbol on top of it, though she was unsure of what was inside.

Sasuke led Sarada to the barstool on the far end of the table by the wooden box, gesturing for her to take a seat, which she did with absolute grace. Her posture was straight and poised and she casually lifted a hand up to remove her glasses from her nose, folding them up and resting them in her lap. She had on a white-collared shirt, a yellow sweater and an orange cardigan with some sort of red tie around her neck, all over a brown skirt. Himawari liked her boots and her glasses the best, often wanting to ask if she could try on the boots but thinking it too impolite to ever actually try. Without her glasses, Sarada looked incredibly like old pictures Himawari had seen of her uncle, which Naruto agreed was true. He had told her that sometimes he looked at Sarada and he could see Sasuke at that age, but then Sarada would say _shannaro_ and all Naruto could see was Sakura.

Himawari knew that she had her mother’s skin tone and her hair color and her gentleness, but everything else she was certain was from her father. Her whiskers, for one, and the color of her eyes as well. But most of all, she’d thought that her personality—bright and positive and determined—was the most Naruto-like thing about her (“dattebasa!”). Yet when she’d told her father that once while he was tucking her into bed, he’d laughed, deep and low, and shook his head.

“Your mother is all of those things, too, Himawari-chan. Even more so than I am.” At Himawari’s courteously unsure expression, Naruto had conspicuously looked both ways over his shoulders before leaning in close to his daughter.

“Wanna know a secret about your mom?” he’d asked, grin wide and eyes gleaming knowingly in the moonlight. Himawari had nodded her head, smiling because her father’s good moods were always contagious, and leaned closer to her father to better hear the secret.

“All of my good traits? _She_ brings them out in me. My positivity, my determination, everything that is good about me, she amplifies them. Get it?”

She’d remained quiet and contemplative for a moment before responding.

“Sorta. What’s ‘amplifies’?” she’d asked.

“It’s like when you’re having a good day, then she brings you your favorite flowers and your day gets even better! It’s like she adds special, important things to smaller things. When I’m determined to do something and your mom encourages me or gives me advice, I know for sure I can absolutely do it!” Naruto had explained, playfully pumping one of his fists and listening to the wind chime laughter spill from his daughter as she nodded her head.

“I get it! Momma’s awesome!”

“You bet she is!” he’d laughed, moving forward and tickling her until she was too exhausted to fight back, her eyes growing heavy and her heart rate settling for sleep. That day she’d learned that she was just like  _both_ of her parents; both of them strong, both of them bright and beautiful and what she hoped she would one day be like, too.

Smiling as she glanced over at Sarada in her barstool with her perfect posture, Himawari copied her movements and hopped up onto the barstool, trying to keep her posture straight and her head held high like Sarada was. She even folder her hands in her lap in just the way that Sarada had, feeling warmth in her cheeks at the knowledge that she and Sarada could have this in common.

Naruto moved to the table and picked up her main brush; turning back to her and wielding it with so much deadly precision it might as well have been a kunai. His eyes burned with determination and he whispered, _I can do this, believe it_ , under his breath before approaching her. She watched form the corner of her eyes as Sasuke opened the wooden box and lined up several hair clips and ties as well as several wide-tooth combs. The orderly way in which he placed everything reminded Himawari of Sarada so much that a giggle escaped her mouth, her hands reaching up to try to catch it back as a flush rose over her cheeks. She didn’t want them to think for any reason that she’d been laughing _at_ them, a tiny feeling of dread building in her gut. But then Naruto laughed with her, letting her know that it was okay, and that bud of dread bloomed into acceptance, just like that. She beamed up at him until he moved behind her and she felt him grab the first strand of her hair. At the same time a few paces away from her, Sasuke grasped a strand of Sarada’s messy hair, too, and suddenly it all clicked into place for Himawari.

They were having a hair salon day. Her father must have set this up as a surprise for her, inviting Sarada and Sasuke over to share the experience and have some fun! Sitting upright with shoulders risen excitedly and her face puckered in utmost delight, Himawari awaited what she was sure was going to be her best hairstyle _ever_.

✧

If Sarada had not been sitting in front of a clock watching the minute hand click sixty times to signal an hour’s worth of sitting on her barstool while her father meticulously tried to brush out her knots and tangles before adding miscellaneous trinkets, she would’ve guessed she’d been there for decades. Not that she wasn’t enjoying herself, quite the opposite in fact—her father usually asked her mother to do her hair and Sarada had always thought that it was because Sakura was so good at it. She could make any style look good, could throw in any number of clips or bows and still maintain Sarada’s classically elegant looks.

It had never occurred to her that her father just didn’t know how to do her hair. Even still, she was so happy to finally have the experience of him putting his time and energy into trying to complete her immaculate appearance that she was flushed and beaming, her hands clenched tightly in her lap and her shoulders moments away from rising up to touch her cheeks with how full of joy she felt.

Sarada glanced over to little Himawari-chan and found her smile widening ever so slightly at the younger girl’s utterly overjoyed posture and expression. _Her_ shoulders had started off lifted up in jubilation and were still pushed up just below her ears, her fair cheeks still rosy with glee. She looked ready to run right out the door, but not for any reason other than to show off the hairstyle her father had scrupulously crafted for an hour straight.

Sarada had no idea what her hair currently looked like other than the fact that her father had given her high pigtails but left her bangs to frame her face. He was tying something around one of the pigtails that she was certain was a red silk ribbon, but there were still miscellaneous clips that she could feel in random places.

Himawari-chan, on the other hand, had more flower clips in her hair than Sarada could count on both hands, the left side of her bangs pinned back with a few bobby pins and the flare of her usual hairstyle even more pronounced after her father experimented with hairspray for the first time. That had been in the first ten minutes they’d been sitting, and he had been using it every seven minutes or so, since.

Sarada shifted slightly in her seat and continued to beam at nothing, filled with joy at getting to spend so much time with her father and even her uncle and cousin. She quite enjoyed Himawari’s company in the few moments when they were able to see each other, though she could barely stand the company of her older brother, who was just so _loud_ she could barely even hear her own thoughts around him. She found that she’d much rather spend her time around the gentle, excited jubilance of his younger sister, who had a strange fascination with animals and flowers and training. Sarada could appreciate that.

Not to mention that, since Himawari was a girl as well, they could spend moments like these, being pampered and treated with the utmost care and precision by their powerful, determined fathers, together. She couldn’t picture Boruto sitting still for this long, but if he ever decided he wanted to, that would probably be fun, too.

Sarada hoped that there would be more salon days in the future. 

✧

Naruto and Sasuke were at a loss. An utter, complete, _total_ loss. There was no pretending that they could make it out of this endeavor with an ounce of their dignity intact.

Naruto had used so much hairspray on Himawari’s hair that it was now resisting even the brush, and when touched would actually make crinkling sounds. He’d used as many pretty flower clips as he could find—because those were Himawari’s favorites—thinking _the more the merrier_ , but in retrospect he found that the more clips he put in her hair the less he was able to brush it without snagging on a clip. So ultimately he did what was clearly necessary: he stopped brushing completely. He used some silk ties to decorate the clips and made a tiny little ponytail at the base of her neck with the hair he’d forgotten to spray with hairspray.

Sasuke had misjudged the silkiness of Sarada’s hair and had thought she would not need it to be brushed before he went right in to tying it into pigtails. He tied the pigtails so tightly he couldn’t actually even remove them without using the Sharingan for more precision, so he just left them there, even though her hair had bunched and separated and now looked like there were several mounds on top of her head leading into the ties. Pieces of hair had been missed and were hanging freely, while others had been captured with hairclips in the shape of books and pencils. Sasuke had also made the mistake of borrowing Naruto’s hairspray and now one of Sarada’s ponytails was as hard and crunchy as uncooked ramen noodles. He wrapped a red silk tie around the base of it and hoped no one touched it, lest it crumble and fall off completely.

The entire hour Naruto and Sasuke had repeatedly glanced over at each other’s work to feel better about themselves.

Peeking around her shoulder and seeing the way that Himawari was so utterly excited about this hairstyle extravaganza was another way that Naruto gained strength from this experience. He had to believe in himself if he was going to tame the beast he had created atop his daughter’s cranium.

Sasuke surreptitiously glanced at Sarada’s smug expression and found strength in her faith in him, so much so that he contemplated going for that four pigtail look he’d originally thought would be cool, before remembering the uncooked ramen noodle pigtail and rejecting that venture completely.

Ultimately, both Naruto and Sasuke were pretty certain that firstly, any miniscule hope at one day being able to brag about their hairstyling skills was gone, and secondly that there are some things in the world that are truly too difficult for even Jonin shinobi renowned for being the strongest in the world—styling hair being one of them.

Yet even still, both Naruto and Sasuke kept checking on their daughters’ expressions and having their energy renewed with the fact that they were pretty certain their girls would like any hairstyle they were given, so long as it came from their fathers. In fact, they would probably wear these hairstyles throughout the village and make sure that just about everyone got a good look at them, just so that they could tell people that their fathers had spent so much time on them, pampering them and making sure they look nice.

Neither Naruto nor Sasuke ever agreed to take responsibility for these circumstances.

✧

Before Hinata and Sakura even left the second vendor on the long list of shops they needed to attend in order to stock up on more household goods, groceries, and shinobi gear, they were already aware of the furtive glances coming their way. Both women, instantly worried about their children, felt their hackles rise. Sakura, the brash and straightforward storm of a woman that she was, walked straight up to one of the most obvious perpetrators and demanded to know what the big deal was. Hinata was right behind her, expression kind but firm, her eyes hard as stone.

“W-well, it’s nothing really. We were just talking about how…how _cute_ your little girls are.” The woman smiled, turning to the other women she was with and giving them what she thought was a discreet look. The group of them started collectively nodding their heads, chirping support and adding compliments.

“They are cute,” Sakura agreed, dangerous eyes glancing from one woman to the next. “So tell me, what makes them _extra_ cute today? To the extent where they’re the talk of this whole store?”

“The whole village, more like,” another woman whispered into the ear of her friend, hiding a smile behind her hand. Hinata, however, had heard the comment and locked her eyes on her with steely determination.

“Do share, ma’am,” she pushed, coming to stand one step ahead of Sakura, protective and defensive. Sakura beamed at her for a moment before crossing her arms over her chest and sending her saltiest glare at the woman, supporting Hinata over her shoulder.

“Oh, well, it’s just their, uh, new hairstyles. Very cute, very cute,” the woman chattered, casting worried glances between the two shinobi. It was impossible for anyone in the village that had been around for the past few decades to not know who Hinata and Sakura were. They had been almost as famous as Naruto and Sasuke until they’d gotten hitched, in which case it was impossible to not hear about them whenever their husbands were mentioned. It was obvious that these women, probably in their early-thirties, were very aware of who they were talking to and keeping secrets from.

“New hairstyles?” Hinata wondered, tone receding away from the snarl it had come close to being. Sakura thought about Sarada and Himawari and their hairstyles and how anything could’ve happened to make the entire village aware of them. It only took the two kunoichi a moment of recollection before they both realized with rising dread _who_ had been in charge of their daughters and had gotten them ready for the day.

“Oh no,” Sakura groaned, balancing her weight back on her heels and tottering back a few steps as Hinata brought a hand up to gently massage one of her temples.

“Thanks for the information, ladies.” Hinata finally said, and Sakura turned back to the group with a scowl as they moved to exit the store.

“Everyone knows it’s really gross to gossip!” she shouted after them, smirking when they picked up their pace out of the shop. She turned to Hinata, who was already looking at her with impending, comical dread in her eyes. Sakura mirrored her expression, both of them slowly starting to shake their heads.

“What have they done to our babies?”

✧

Hinata and Sakura ditched their shopping lists to head over to the Hokage tower to see their daughters and get some explanations from their husbands, since they were certain Naruto would be there and hopeful Sasuke would be as well. Correct on both accounts, Sakura and Hinata burst into the main room with Sakura’s usual flare, slamming the door open with enough force that Naruto was going to have to get maintenance done on the wall again.

Sasuke was leaning a hip against the desk as Naruto typed something away on his computer, glancing up to see that it was his wife and Sakura-chan before his fingers typed even quicker, Sasuke hissing _faster, dobe_ under his breath as Hinata and Sakura came to stand before his desk. Naruto was in his Hokage robes without the garish hat, which Hinata noticed was on top of the filing cabinet over in the corner. It didn’t seem that he was busy with anything especially important, though he was typing so quickly on his new computer that Hinata wondered if she was wrong about that.

“What did you do to our girls?” Sakura demanded, forthright as always. Hinata crossed her arms over her chest and gave Naruto an apprehensive glance, frowning. Sasuke straightened and crossed his arms over his chest, too, looking anywhere but at Sakura.

“They’re out back. How was shopping? Get any good deals?” Naruto stalled, swallowing heavily. Sasuke rolled his eyes, looking very nearly like he wanted to hide them behind his hands but just barely managed not to.

“ _Naruto_ ,” Hinata chastised, quiet but as always, scarily effective on Naruto.

“This website says it’ll come out in the shower, okay? It’s not even that big of a deal,” Naruto blurted, shaking his head and continuing to type and search the internet as fervently as he could. Sasuke groaned quietly, shooting him a glare. Sakura zeroed in on him like a laser beam, target locked.

“Don’t act like this wasn’t half your fault, Sasuke-kun. If you don’t fess up I’m going to return the tomatoes I just bought from the market. And then I’m going to throw you through the wall.”

“Tch,” Sasuke remarked, glaring. “We used your hairspray.”

“All of it?” Hinata asked, surprised. Sakura’s mouth dropped open and she asked, “Mine too?”

“Hn.” He responded, and there was a light, embarrassed flush to his cheeks that they almost missed.

“Okay, so having you guys do their hair was a disaster. Got it.” Sakura guessed, she and Hinata nodding their heads as their fears started to lessen and their amusement began to heighten.

“But they’re _okay_ , right?”

“Of course!” Naruto blurted, sitting back in his chair, obviously affronted. But then Sasuke made another whip-like remark and Naruto was back to typing furiously over the keys, spiking Hinata’s and Sakura’s interest.

“What are you doing?” Hinata asked, coming around the desk to glance at the computer. She moved around Sasuke, who looked very much like he wanted to reach out and stop her but was slightly fearful he’d lose the functionality of his hands if he did. Sakura moved forward until she was right against the desk, watching Hinata’s face for answers. She watched a small frown form, her delicate brows drawing together and then her entire expression open up with amusement as her musical laughter rang quietly throughout the room.

“What? What is it?” Sakura hedged, already smiling despite herself. She glanced over to Sasuke and saw his blush even more pronounced now that he was being laughed at. Naruto quit typing, defeated, and put his face in his hands.

“So mean,” he grumbled through his palms, muffled and indistinct. Hinata put a comforting hand against the back of his neck as she glanced over to Sakura.

“They’re looking up what happens when you use too much hairspray, and how to fix the effects.”

Sakura froze for a brief moment before curling in on herself in laughter, grabbing at her sides and feeling tears well up in her eyes.

“What’s so funny? How were we supposed to know anything about hairspray?” Naruto demanded, his face now free of his hands as he glanced up and over his shoulder at Hinata, who was looking fondly down at him. She leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to one whiskered cheek, blinking her eyes closed as she smiled at him for just a moment.

“We were so worried that you guys hacked off their hair and they were bald or something,” Sakura responded through her bubbling laughter, looking up to see the stink eye Sasuke was shooting her because he was embarrassed, which only served to make her curl back up into renewed laughter.

“Too much hairspray just means too much hairspray,” Hinata replied quietly, smiling at the both of them. “Like you said, Naruto-kun, it will come out in the shower.”

“Good,” Naruto wheezed, reclining back in his seat before bouncing up to his feet and rubbing at the back of his neck nervously.

“Wait, uh, how did you two find out in the first place?” Sasuke straightened even more at that, the curiosity stark on his face as he turned to Sakura, who was finally regaining control of herself. Hinata looked over to Sakura and raised her brows, giving her the chance to explain what they had run into in the store.

“Everyone in the store was giving us weird looks, so we went up to a group and politely asked them what we were missing out on.”

“Politely,” Sasuke scoffed, giving Sakura an amused and affectionate glance, like he thought her very real, very legitimately dangerous intimidation tactics were endearing. Sakura huffed, continuing on without addressing his remark.

“So they told us that our daughters’ ‘new hairstyles’ were really cute. The way they said really cute made it sound like they were being forced to call rotten garbage really cute, so of course we were a little concerned.”

“Ah,” Naruto replied in a falsely light tone, looking suddenly like he was close to tears. Hinata frowned down at him, briefly glancing up at Sakura with an amused smile before asking him what was wrong.

“Man, we tried so hard on those hairstyles!” He blurted, and Sasuke’s pout somehow looked like it was agreeing. “We spent an hour on ‘em, dattebayo.”

There was a moment of silence between all of them, both parts contemplative and amused, before Naruto stood to his full height once more and spoke.

“Next time will be better for sure, right teme?”

“Hn.” Sasuke responded, but there was a steely determination in his eyes that both Hinata and Sakura recognized. They turned back to each other and shared a pained look, silently apologizing to their daughters for all the future terrible hairstyles they would have to endure until Naruto and Sasuke could improve their skills.

“Well,” Sakura sighed, walking over to Sasuke and grinning as she held her hand out. He took it without a word and they headed towards the door, turning back to see Naruto tucking a strand of Hinata’s long hair behind her ear, looking at her like she was the sun and the moon and ever single star in the universe.

“Let’s go find our fashionistas.”

✧

Naruto and Sasuke had let Sarada and Himawari play behind the Hokage tower while they came inside to quickly research ways to reverse the effects of overuse of hairspray. That’s where they found their girls once they stepped outside; at the edge of the tree line with Himawari explaining the meanings of various wildflowers to Sarada, going so far as to explain the medicinal uses for the ones her mother had taught her. The moment they were in sight both Naruto and Sakura called out to their girls and watched as they perked right up, turning to sprint towards them as fast as they could. Sarada, already a high-level academy student and a few years older than Himawari, made it back to them first, breathily greeting her mother and father with a shy smile and bright eyes. When Himawari made it back to them she leapt right up into Naruto’s open arms, laughing when he turned his head and blew a raspberry into her neck.

“A little birdy told Sakura-chan and I that you and Sarada-chan got new hairstyles,” Hinata said, rubbing Himawari’s back and waiting for her to un-tuck herself from the side of Naruto’s neck, where she had nestled in like a kitten. At the mention of her hairstyle, Himawari immediately pushed away from Naruto’s neck and looked directly at her mother, beaming.

“Daddy did such a good job! We got so many compliments!” Himawari chirped, bringing a hand up to touch at a turquoise flower pin near her ear. Hinata smiled warmly at her, looking at the half of her bangs that were pinned back and the various clips and bows that were visible from the front. She hummed lightly, walking around to see the back as Himawari gave Naruto a bright look, admiring and joyful.

“We did,” Sarada agreed, smiling up at her parents. Sasuke was watching Sakura carefully as she knelt down to Sarada’s height, smiling kindly at her and touching various parts of her hair.

“I can see why,” she agreed, grabbing Sarada’s hand and slowly twirling her around so that she could see everything. She shot an amused glance up at Sasuke, who squinted in response, and pulled Sarada in for a hug.

“My girl is so beautiful! I’m not surprised that you’d get so many compliments.” Sakura glanced over to see Himawari’s hair and held in the snort she so desperately wanted to let out, her amusement at both Naruto’s and Sasuke’s attempts to do their little girls’ hairstyles almost too amusing for her to contain herself. Hinata was beaming at Himawari, who was so proud of her hairstyle she kept insisting that Hinata touch certain parts of it, fascinated that some parts had become hard and stayed in their place. Naruto flushed a deep red at that, turning to give Sasuke a pained look that his raven-haired friend returned in kind.

“Both of you look extra beautiful,” Hinata agreed with Sakura’s early words as she rested a hand on Naruto’s back. “You can continue playing for a little bit longer.”

“Can we see uncle today?” Himawari asked as Naruto let her slide down his body until her feet touched the ground. Hinata touched her cheek lovingly, nodding her head.

“We can.”

“Yosh!” Himawari cheered, turning to Sarada with a sudden shyness that charmed every adult there. “Wanna go play some more?”

“Okay,” Sarada agreed, face blank as she watched Himawari race off to the edge of the forest, not even waiting for her to follow but certain that she would. Sarada turned to Sakura with a serious expression on her face.

“Salads tonight?” She asked. Sakura pretended to think about it for a moment before finally nodding her head.

“With tomatoes?” Sarada hedged, raising her brows over the rims of her glasses. Naruto was laughing behind his hand, recognizing who she got that trait from, but Sasuke was too charmed to even care. He knelt down with Sakura and took Sarada’s hand in his, pressing a light kiss to the back of her hand and nodding his head in answer to her question. She beamed, brightening up like a sunrise, and turned to chase after Himawari, who was already kneeling in the dirt at the base of a great tree, hands submerged in dirt and bugs and muck.

Sakura and Sasuke stood back up and moved simultaneously to hold one another’s hands, Sakura pressing in close to his side as they watched their daughter come to a stop right over Himawari and refuse to kneel in the dirt with her. Himawari didn’t seem to mind, she just carefully held up a worm for Sarada to see, said something with wide eyes, and placed the worm back into the dirt hole she’d dug.

Naruto pulled Hinata in close to his side, her hand still on his back and his around her shoulders, leaning over to kiss the crown of her head affectionately.

“You guys are totally gonna have to improve,” Sakura finally said, breaking the silence with an utterly delighted tone. Sasuke sighed, deflating slightly as Naruto made a betrayed noise.

“Of course we’ll improve! Who do you think we are? We’re always the best!” Naruto cheered, pumping his free fist into the air. Hinata laughed against his shoulder, resting her head there as Sasuke made a noncommittal sound.

“You mean _I’m_ always the best, dobe.” Sakura rolled her eyes, lightly smacking at Sasuke’s side but nestling in good and close all the same.

“We’ll see about that, teme! Whoever masters this hairstyle technique first is the winner. But really, it’s gonna be me, count on it!”

“What makes you think that, dobe? You could never beat me before.”

“I’m the Hokage! I’m definitely the best!”

Sakura and Hinata shared a conspiratorial glance, amused and suddenly drowsy with affection towards their idiot husbands. Though they both figured that the best way for them to improve their hair styling skills was probably actually to make a competition out of it, like they just had. It would be the quickest and most efficient way to save face for Himawari and Sarada and all of their future hairstyles on the days when their fathers were in charge of getting them ready.

Neither of them would tell Naruto or Sasuke that they hoped they would _never_ master styling their daughters’ hair, because every extra minute they spent with them brought such utter joy to Himawari and Sarada.

So Hinata and Sakura buckled down and prepared themselves for a lifetime of disastrous hairstyles and later, vaguely resentful teenage daughters that would secretly cherish the times spent with their fathers—with all of their vibrant, over the top ninjutsu and techniques—trying in vain to figure out that _simplicity_ was key.

All four of them turned to watch their only daughters poke their hands through the earth and look up as a flock of birds suddenly took flight from the canopy of the tree they were playing at, soaring overhead without looking back. They looked so delicate, those birds, beautiful and strong as they moved through the air in a scattered rhythm, unknowing of where exactly they were headed, but determined to get there.

They watched the birds fly off and disappear towards the white-hot center of the sun, no longer visible to human eyes.

They glanced back at their daughters and felt the wind underneath them, the sun burning hot on their backs, the steady cadence of wings bursting forth and carrying them to an indefinite destination years down the line; one day their daughters would be stronger than they were, small and delicate but dangerously free, like birds in flight.

**Author's Note:**

> The only part of the last Naruto chapter I care about: naruhina and their kids, tbh. Himawari is a treasure :' )


End file.
